


Persephone Wept

by darkbrokenreaper



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkbrokenreaper/pseuds/darkbrokenreaper
Summary: “Don’t eat the fruit that grows near the river,” Peter had warned him, the first time he had set foot onto Neverland. “Eat the fruit and you will never leave. Eat the fruit and you will be mine for all eternity.”“Would that be so bad?” Henry thinks as he turns the sticky red fruit over and over in his hands. He brings it to his lips. The juice is sweet with promises, and tart with longing.





	Persephone Wept

**Author's Note:**

> So I went through my old files today and noticed that this was almost fully written out. I've had this in my files for years but lost the motivation to write it after finding out who Peter Pan really was. But I went back, decided that since the finale is coming around, to dust it off, edit, and post it.
> 
> Notes at the end have warnings!

“Don’t eat the fruit that grows near the river,” Peter had warned him, the first time he had set foot onto Neverland. “Eat the fruit and you will never leave. Eat the fruit and you will be mine for all eternity.”

“Would that be so bad?” Henry thinks as he turns the sticky red fruit over and over in his hands. He brings it to his lips. The juice is sweet with promises, and tart with longing.

\--

There is a place he goes when he falls asleep at night to the sound of his mothers screaming at each other. They’re fighting but safe in his bedroom at night, Henry closes his eyes, shuts his ears, and dreams of a world filled with laughter and adventure.

The very first time, he wakes up submerged in an ocean so clear that he can see the arm that reaches for him, pulling him onto the sandy shores as he coughs and chokes up sea water. He is drenched from head to toe and shivering from the cold breeze but none of those things matter when he stares into the glittering green eyes of his rescuer.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” his savior asks with a teasing grin.

The boy is older than him but not by much. Dressed in forest green with boots and belts much too big for him, he has a smile that promises mischief and wicked fun adventures. Henry decides right then and there that he likes that smile, wants to always see that smile directed at him.

“Where am I?” Henry asks curiously, wringing his pajama shirt of sand and sea water. The sun is quite warm so he’s sure that he’ll dry out in a couple of minutes. He’s baffled on why he’s on a tropical island in the first place. It was winter and snowing dreadfully when he had fallen asleep and he lives nowhere near the coast.

“Why, you’re on Neverland of course,” the boy answers with a lilting sing song voice.

Henry pauses, “Neverland?”

“The land of fairies and dreams!” he boasts, clearly proud of his homeland. “An island swathed in imagination and the reveries of children!”

That makes absolutely no sense to Henry. It sounds like something a fairy prince would say but then again, his savior looks very much like the princes he reads about in his stories. Dashing and cavalier with sharp, angular features that reminded him of Puck.

The thought brings a blush to Henry’s face, “Who are you?”

“I’m Peter Pan,” the boy introduces himself with a highly theatrical bow. His arms sweep out, gesturing behind him and a playful grin decorates his lips. “What brings you to my lovely abode, weary traveler?”

“I was sleeping in my bed, and all of a sudden I was here,” Henry explains with a furrowed brow. This had to be a dream. Even Peter had said so, but he’s never had a dream that was this vivid and this real. Experimentally, he grabs a handful of sand and let the grains flow through his fingers. It sure feels very real.

“That’s how children enter Neverland.”

Henry tilts his head in consideration. “Is there anyone else on the island?”

Peter grinned, “You’re looking at him.”

“It’s just you then?”

“And you,” Peter points out brightly.

Henry frowns. That doesn’t sound very fun. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“Yes, sometimes,” Peter muses. “But then people like you come and I’m not lonely anymore.”

“People like me?”

“Believers,” Peter says in a hushed reverent tone.

“Believers,” Henry reiterates, confused. That was not the answer he was expecting.

“Enough talk,” Peter is at the end of his patience and the questions cease. He grins impishly, “Let’s play!”

“Play what?” Henry smiles back. For some reason, he isn’t concerned with the fact that he is on a strange island with a strange impossible boy whose smiles are like sin.

Peter leans into him as if imparting a great secret. Henry can’t help but lean in too until they are a breath apart.

“Whatever you like,” Peter whispers into his ear and it feels like a promise. Peter holds out his palm expectantly, “Won’t you come away with me, Henry Mills?”

He should be more wary; he never told Peter his name but for something reason, every bit of doubt, every negative emotion curling in the pit of his belly disappears.

Henry does not hesitate; he places his hand in Peter’s palm and doesn’t look back.

\--

They explore and search for hidden treasure in the Echo Caves. They climb the highest trees in the depths of the Black Forest, pretending the trees can reach the stars and the night sky (they do). They flirt with sirens in Mermaid’s Cove (Peter flirts with the mermaids. Henry blushes and shrinks into himself when they coo over his adorable face). They fight and battle against Captain Hook on the Jolly Roger, winning fights and losing some. Peter teaches him how to wield a sword and how to sing so sweetly that the flowers bloom to the sound of his voice. They never run out of fun adventures to have.

Whenever Henry is awake, all he can think about is getting back to Neverland and back to Peter who is always there for him, ready for a new adventure. It begins to feel like the real world is the dream and Neverland is where he truly belongs. Between custody battles and being ferried around like a box of luggage, Henry daydreams of a boy with a smirk like daggers.

“This is so much fun!” Henry laughs one day while riding a dolphin in the clear blue waters. “I never want to wake up!”

Henry does not notice Peter’s frown.

Henry comes upon the fruit one day when he’s running away from Pan in a highly spirited game of hide and seek with the entire island as their playground. There are flowers the colors of blood dotted along the river that runs throughout Neverland and in each of the crimson cradles lies a small round fruit bright as a jewel.

Henry plucks at one of them, his curiosity overcoming the desire to play at the moment. Ruby red juice runs along his forearm as he frees the soft fleshy fruit. He sees Peter eating one sometimes when Henry arrives to Neverland though he never shares.

Experimentally, his fingernail scores a line into the flesh, bringing forth wine red beads of nectar. It glistens in the sunlight and looks so tantalizing that he can’t help but salivate at the sight. He brings the fruit to his lips.

“Stop!” Peter shouts, snatching the fruit from his hands and throwing it into the forest. Peter wrenches him to the river and forces his hands into the freezing water, scrubbing them vigorously.

“What are you doing?” Henry yelps when his skin feels like it is being rubbed raw. “Ow! Stop it, Peter! You’re hurting me!”

“Did you eat any?” Peter asks frantically. Henry’s cheeks are pinched between thumb and forefinger, forcing his mouth to part as Peter examines his lips and tongue.

“I didn’t!” Henry denies, scared at the new side of Peter he’s never seen before. “I swear!”

Once Peter has thoroughly examined him, he pulls Henry close to him, pinning him with a serious look.

“Swear to me that you will never eat the fruit near the river!” Peter orders but there is a hint of desperation in his voice, “Promise me.”

“Why?” Henry asks.

“You eat this fruit and you will never wake up,” Peter tells him somberly.

A cold chill washes through Henry. “What do you mean I’ll never wake up?”

“You’ll be here forever.”

And Henry wonders if that is such a bad thing.

\--

“This isn’t real,” Peter whispers. Henry pauses in his flower crown weaving. They’re in a meadow filled with flowers in an entire rainbow spectrum. It’s nice and peaceful and everything Peter has ever wanted and never can keep.

“What?”

“This isn’t real,” Peter repeats himself but louder this time and more determined. He stares squarely in brown doe eyes that begin to shatter. _I’m sorry, Henry._

“I-I don’t understand,” Henry tries, fingers growing tight and crushing the flowers in his grasp.

“Don’t you get it, Henry?” Peter huffs out a sardonic laugh. “This place isn’t real. Neverland isn’t real. I’m not real. Everything you’ve been through so far has been all in your mind.”

Break the boy. Scare him away. Peter Pan was a dream and dreams weren’t allowed to possess beautiful boys like Henry Mills.

“Yes, you are,” Henry insists but his voice begins to waver. “You are real. Stop lying!”

“No, I’m just a boy in your dreams,” Peter insists. “You made me up so that you wouldn’t have to be alone. Your mothers are right. This is nothing but your imagination.”

“Y-You’re real, Peter,” Henry says unsurely, as if trying to convince himself of that fact. What is happening? Why is this going so wrong?

“How can I be real?” Peter asks plaintively. “I am an impossible boy who flies. Magic isn’t real, Henry.”

“No,” Henry claps his hands over his ears and shuts his eyes. “No! Stop it! Stop lying to me!”

“Henry, look at me,” Peter begs. “Neverland is just a dream. It’s not real. You made it up, Henry.”

Tears, crystalline and sweet, drip down Henry’s cheeks as Peter’s heart breaks. His precious friend, the most precious boy he has ever met.

“Why are you doing this?” Henry sobs, fingers reaching out for Peter as if to ascertain that he is tangible. The fae boy immediately captures his beloved companion’s hand, pressing a fond kiss to the palm of it.

“You made me up because you needed a companion who would be there for you while you were being ignored,” Peter soothes him.

“But it feels so real, you feel so real, Peter,” he silently cries. Peter pulls him into a warm embrace which Henry allows even as he grows despondent, hiccupping and crying ceaselessly.

“You must leave Neverland and never return,” Peter says, pain lancing every word. “All dreams have to end someday before we’re lost forever in them.”

He’s lying and it hurts but he loves Henry too much to keep him in a fantasy land where he will never grow up, never experience what life has to offer. Peter Pan has never loved someone as much as he loved Henry and he knows he will never forgive himself if he steals him away from the world.

“Maybe I want to be lost,” Henry retorts in a sullen tone. Peter chuckles, low and indulgent as he runs a tender hand on Henry’s cheek.

“Being lost is such a terrible feeling,” he answers wistfully, brushing away Henry’s tears with his thumb. He holds his friend’s face in between his palms, memorizes every single beautiful feature of his face, “I will always love you, my Henry. More than you can ever know.”

“Please, don’t do this,” Henry tries one last time.

Peter Pan kisses his forehead and whispers, “Wake up, Henry.”

\--

His mothers are fighting again, Henry thinks as he hears glass shattering and shrill voices invade his room. It’s the worst one yet. The decision from the custody court is coming tomorrow. After this, his life will be changed forever and he hates it.

Henry buries himself in his bed and opens his eyes to see the fantastical land only this time he is bitter with harsh longing. This place is real. Peter is a liar and he can fly to the moon for all Henry cares.

The fae boy is nowhere in sight, not that Henry wants to see him right now. Fuming internally, he feels the need to do something reckless, something spiteful to hurt Peter just as much as he hurt Henry yesterday.

Henry finds the river easily enough, as if it wants to be found. He finds the biggest, brightest fruit of the bunch and runs a finger down its smooth skin. It is so ripe that even the slightest pressure breaks the peel and brings forth beads of crimson.

“Henry!” Peter shouts but it’s too late. Henry swallows his mouthful and it is divine. His body feels lighter as if the shackles of his humanity have been cut.

Peter smacks the fruit out of his hand and forces his hands into the river, scrubbing them furiously. He grasps Henry’s cheeks and forces his mouth open.

“It’s too late,” Henry smiles, lips stained carmine with sweetness.

“Oh, Henry,” Peter laments, “Oh, you stupid foolish boy. What have you done?”

He pulls Henry into his embrace and weeps into his hair even as his fingers trace the curve of his new companion’s triumphant smile.

“I’m staying with you, Peter,” Henry replies softly. “Forever.”

In Henry’s world, his mothers do not notice as Henry’s breath peters off in his sleep. Slowly and quietly like a child’s footsteps, Henry’s little heart stops and flies to Neverland.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Major character death (sort of), underage (sort of? They don't go too far and I wanted this more as an innocent courtship than a full on romance).


End file.
